


she’s got me lovestoned

by peterandhispirate



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: F/F, Falling In Love, First Meetings, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Trans Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-09
Updated: 2019-01-09
Packaged: 2019-10-07 11:17:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17364923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peterandhispirate/pseuds/peterandhispirate
Summary: Josh is a humble graffiti artist and Tyler happens to catch her in the act.Josh likes Tyler.





	she’s got me lovestoned

**Author's Note:**

> title from “i think she knows” by kaki king

Josh wasn’t a bad kid. Truly, she wasn’t. She smiled at retail workers and waitresses. She held open doors for old people and young people and pretty much everyone, actually. She even set out food for the colony of stray cats that lived near her apartment complex.

A good kid.

Too bad graffiti and vandalism charges went hand in hand.

But Josh was sneaky. She’d always been sneaky - even at the tender age of thirteen, when she first started spraypainting her emotional turmoil on brick walls and underpasses and abandoned houses. Back then it was all frowny faces and Linkin Park lyrics. Typical teenage angst.

She wished she could say she left it all in the past. If only life wasn’t one big growing pain.

If only she hadn’t picked the worst possible time to slink behind the local Olive Garden and start shaking her cans of choice with every intention of turning the nearest dumpster into a neon whirlwind. Pink and yellow - her favorite combination. The _best_ combination.

Hopefully the waitress rounding the corner would agree with her.

The waitress in question stopped dead, eyebrows furrowed; cigarette in hand. They stared at each other for what felt like the longest ten seconds of Josh’s life. She lowered the cans as if in surrender, useless mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.

“Doing some redecorating?” asked the waitress, half-grinning, and Josh combed through her words in search of genuine amusement - or better yet, _forgiveness_.

“I, uh. Yeah. I mean, no. Not at all. I was just...” She ran a sweaty hand through faded blue curls, clearing her throat in the worst display of innocence known to man. “I was just digging through your garbage. Tons of good stuff in there.”

The waitress raised both eyebrows and brought the cigarette to her mouth, exhaling smoke and indifference like some kind of unreadable dragon. Her nametag pinned her as _Tyler_.

Josh considered bolting, but she had a feeling that running would only make a sticky situation ten times stickier. So she swallowed and said, “Are you, like, the manager? Because I really didn’t mean to-“

“No, jackass, I’m not the manager. Not even close.” More smoke. Josh studied her through the haze: dark eyes, sharp face, messy hair that swallowed thin shoulders. “What’s your name?”

Josh’s heart sank faster than the Titanic. “My full name?”

The dragon girl laughed, and the sound of it made Josh think someone had taken a hammer to her kneecaps. “Relax, dude. M’not gonna file a police report. I just wanna know.”

“Oh.” Blinking, she stepped forward and stuck out a semi-shaky hand. Good kid, remember? "I’m Josh.”

They met in the middle. Tyler’s handshake was gentle but firm, like a hug from Josh’s mom. When Tyler pulled back, she smiled sort of sly and said, “Want some advice, Josh?”

“Sure,” said Josh, who could always use advice.

“Come back at 10PM.”

“Uh.” Josh scratched at her jaw, forehead creasing. “Why?”

Tyler’s eyes glinted, mischievous. “That’s when we close.”

She winked, and dropped the cigarette, and disappeared around the corner, leaving Josh to stare helplessly after her, freckled chest suddenly void of oxygen. She glanced down at the cig; watched it sizzle and die on the pavement.

 _I_ _got_ _lucky_ , she thought, chewing on her lower lip. _Super_ , _super_ _lucky_.

Josh did, in fact, come back at 10PM.

 

;

 

Maybe it was stupid of her to swing by that same Olive Garden a few days later, because who knew if Tyler would be as forgiving the second time around. Maybe she wasn’t even working. Maybe Josh would get busted by some big burly manager dude who wouldn’t hesitate to beat her ass on the spot.

Maybe Josh was using vandalism as an excuse to see Tyler again.

(Yeah, it was kind of pathetic, shut up.)

Josh didn’t have to wait for her to materialize this time: she was already there, leaning against the building, puffing smoke and smiling when Josh approached with nervous hands stuffed in her hoodie pocket.

“What’s your problem?” she asked around the cigarette, making Josh stop dead.

“Huh?”

Tyler snorted - endeared, not angry. “Do you _want_ to get arrested, or..?”

Josh shook her head, curls bouncing like baby blue bunnies. “Not really, no.”

Tyler hummed, and looked Josh up and down, and hooked a thumb over her shoulder before saying, “This yours?”

The wall she was leaning against was home to a fresh new mural: a grinning cat face plastered on a backdrop of pinks and purples and a little bit of white. Some of Josh’s best work, in her opinion, and she rarely gave herself compliments.

But Tyler’s judgment already meant the world to her, which is why the next words out of Josh’s mouth went something like this: "Yeah. D’you like it?”

“I do.” She meant it. Josh could tell. “My boss? Not so much.”

Josh shrugged, because you can’t please everyone. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t feel just a little guilty. She always did. “Figured he wouldn’t.”

“S’okay,” said Tyler. And then, “He’s kinda an asshole.”

“Oh.” Gesturing helplessly at the cat, Josh mumbled, “I was gonna stick with the dumpster, but there wasn’t enough room for... all this. Guess I got inspired.”

Tyler hummed again, amusement combatting the darkness of her eyes. “Looks like it.”

“Are they gonna wash it off?”

“I hope not. Really adds to the ambiance of the place.”

Josh furrowed her eyebrows. “I don’t even know what that means.”

Tyler huffed a laugh and said, “Figures.”

Josh could already feel her face heating up, warm and pink enough to melt the ring in her nose into nothing. But hey, it's not every day a snarky Olive Garden waitress not only pays attention to you but _teases_ _you_ when she could be doing literally anything else.

"You're the same person who paints _god_ _is_ _gay_ all over town, aren't you?" asked the waitress herself, snapping Josh out of her lovesick lesbian coma.

"Uh, yeah. That's me. Why?"

"I dunno. Just always makes me smile." She was smiling just talking about it, and Josh's heart blossomed. "Seeing that stuff, I mean."

"Oh," said Josh, who now had a big red flower sitting pretty in her chest. "Well, good. I like making people smile."

Tyler nodded sort of slow, one corner of her mouth twitching higher than the other. "You seem like the type."

"Is that, like, a compliment?" Josh asked with raised eyebrows, but even if it wasn't, she could never resent someone so pretty.

"Yeah." Tyler tapped the cig to her chin, thoughtful. "Yeah, I guess it was. Savor that shit."

"Thanks. I will."

Tyler gave her one of those long looks, and took a long drag from her cigarette, and stole a long glance down at her phone before announcing, "Break's over, babe. Seeya 'round."

One part disappointed and two parts dazed, Josh could barely make her twisted tongue function well enough to sputter, "I... okay. Seeya."

So Tyler left, and all the while Josh just kept thinking the same damn thing:

 _she_ _called_ _me_ _babe_.

 

;

 

Josh was like a stray dog who stumbled across a goldmine of food and affection: she couldn't stop herself from going back, again and again and again, sweet and shy and pink-faced, helpless in the face of Tyler’s shoulder-squeezes and arm-touches and her _laugh_ , Jesus Christ, Josh was falling face-first into a bottomless pit of love and she didn’t even care.

Okay, scratch that. She _did_ care. Too much, maybe. Because Josh cared about everything. Every _one_.

Tyler in particular.

She cared so much, in fact, that she was momentarily paralyzed when Tyler reached out to tuck a stray curl behind her ear, thoughtful, and ask, “Do you wear makeup?”

“Uh. No. Do you?” She was already bracing herself for judgment, or ridicule, or a lecture, and ultimately received none of it. Because this was Tyler, not some middle school bully.

“Sometimes. Just for fun.” Tyler gestured to the pavement like it was the world’s most comfortable couch. “Sit.”

So Josh sat, knees hugged to her chest and watching with quiet anticipation as Tyler settled down across from her, cross-legged; pulling one of those mini eyeshadow palettes out of her pocket.

“Nothing crazy,” Tyler assured her. “M’just curious.”

And Josh nodded, because she was curious, too. “Can I pick the color?”

“‘Course you can pick.”

After a few moments of indecisive lip-chewing, she said “fuck it” and pointed at what could only be described as _firetruck_ _red_.

“Very bold,” Tyler said, cracking a smile. “I’m into it.”

Josh opened her mouth to say “glad you approve” but promptly lost her voice when Tyler scooted closer - so close that their legs bumped.

“Close your eyes.”

Josh closed them.

The brush was soft, like butterflies kissing her eyelids, and Tyler’s breath was warm and honey-sweet, and Josh was certain that this painfully brief moment made up for all the sleepovers she never got invited to.

And despite the sentiment bubbling between her ribs like good champagne, all Josh could manage was “you smell like breadsticks.”

Tyler honked a laugh, which had to count for something.

The butterfly kisses only lasted a few seconds longer; Josh kept her eyes squeezed shut just in case, only opening them when Tyler said, “Wanna see?”

Josh nodded, and looked, and found herself staring into the front-facing camera of Tyler’s phone, which was being held in front of her like a mirror.

“Whaddya think?” Tyler asked, watching curiously as Josh squinted at the red-smeared reflection on the screen.

“Looks like I got beat up.”

Naturally, Tyler laughed, and Josh scrambled to say something positive.

“But I like it! I really do.”

Tyler just snorted and tossed her the palette, which Josh fumbled but didn’t drop. “Here. Keep it.”

“Oh, no, you don’t have to-“ Josh started to object, round eyes getting even rounder when Tyler cut her off.

“ _Keep_ _it_ , pretty girl. I insist."

Bubblegum pink warmth oozing out of her heart and up her face, Josh was struggling to process the sheer tenderness of it. _All_ of it. But she couldn’t just sit there like a lovesick dumbass and say nothing.

"Well... thanks.” She cleared her throat and tried again. “I mean, thank you. So much."

"Any time,” said Tyler, tipping an imaginary baseball cap, and before Josh knew it she was getting to her feet. But rather than turning to leave like she usually did, Tyler hesitated. It was so unlike her that Josh nearly jumped when she spoke up again.

"I've always wanted to cut my hair short.” Dark eyes lingered wistfully on Josh’s curls. “Like, _really_ short. Like yours."

"Why don't you?" Josh asked, but she knew it was never that easy.

"I dunno. My mom never let me.” Tyler twisted up her face in an attempt to parrot her mother’s snarl: “ _You'll_ _look_ _like_ _a_ _boy_. _Is_ _that_ _what_ _you_ _want?_ _To_ _look_ _like_ _a_ _boy?_ I just wanted a fucking haircut.”

Josh blinked. “Then cut it."

"Yeah?” Tyler blinked back, voice even. “Maybe I will."

And that was that.

 

;

 

Josh was going to ask her out.

Josh was going to _try_ to ask her out.

Josh was going to keel over before she got the chance.

But she had to try.

Showing up with chocolate or a bouquet seemed kind of corny, and not really Josh’s style - or Tyler’s, for that matter. So she kept it simple; casual. She brought a can of green spraypaint and nothing else. For luck.

Because as far as Josh was concerned, she needed all the luck she could get.

Naturally, she had a pretty good idea of when Tyler would be on break, which is why she was a little concerned by the Tyler-shaped absence she found upon arriving. The smiling cat graffiti was missing, too: the wall had been scrubbed clean. It felt like a bad omen.

 _They’re_ _prob’ly_ _just_ _busy_ _tonight_ , Josh told herself, but the nausea lapping at her ribcage was indisputable. _They_ _seem_ _busy_ , _anyway_. _Just_ _wait_.

So she waited, and the longer she stood there wringing her hands, the more she began to doubt the whole goddamn thing. Because what if Tyler was starting to see her as something predatory? Something not worth her time?

 _You’re_ _not_ _worth_ _her_ _time_.

Josh swallowed, and gripped the can a little tighter, and stared at the blank slate looming in front of her. Mocking her. She was being mocked.

“Okay,” she mumbled to herself, shaking the can. “Okay, fuck it.”

It was with an arm wrought with shakes and freckles that Josh reached up to plaster a simple one-word question across the wall:

_DATE?_

And who knew if Tyler would even see it, would even _care_ , but Josh figured that was just a chance she had to take. At the end of the day, love was a gamble, and if anyone was worth betting it all, it was Tyler.

So Josh placed her bet, glanced over her work, and went home. And she waited.

There was nothing more to do.

She avoided coming back around for the next couple of days - not because she was a coward, necessarily, but because she needed to sort some things out. Brain things. Heart things. Tyler things.

Once the sorting was more or less over with, she threw on a hoodie and her favorite snapback and headed out. Part of her wondered if Tyler would even be there. Maybe that was for the best.

 _Maybe_ _you're_ _being_ _paranoid_ , Josh's brain suggested, which was most definitely the case. _All_ _you_ _gotta_ _do_ _is_ _show_ _up_.

So she showed up, and lo and behold, there was her favorite waitress, smoking the same brand of cigarettes; leaning against the same wall. But there were a few noteworthy differences: for starters, Josh's message was hovering just above her head like some kind of green halo. Secondly, she'd gotten that haircut she wanted so bad - shaved sides with messy fluff on top. She looked good.

This wasn't unusual, really, but Josh was in awe anyway.

“Hey.” Lame, but safe. She adjusted her hat. “Cut your hair. Looks good.”

Tyler let her mouth leak smoke for awhile, not saying much of anything. Josh was so mesmerized by the haze that she barely heard her ask, "So where do you wanna go?”

“I, uh. What?”

“On our date, genius," Tyler clarified, one corner of her mouth twitching. "Where do you wanna go?”

Slowly, sweetly, Josh started to smile. And it was with that same slow sweetness that she shrugged and said, "I think there’s an Olive Garden around here somewhere. I could be wrong, though.”

Naturally, Tyler dropped her cigarette, surged forward, and kissed her; Josh groaned soft and surprised against the tenderness of her mouth, but when Tyler reached up to cradle her unshaven face, she found herself pulling back, pulling _away_ , pulling six feet deep into her inherent discomfort.

“What’s wrong, baby?” Tyler asked, eyebrows furrowed and clearly worried she had done something wrong.

Josh swallowed, but the heart in her throat wouldn't budge. “I just... don't wanna make you uncomfortable."

Tyler's sharp little face went soft, then firm, then soft again when she took Josh's hand, looked her in the eye, and said, "I'd only be uncomfortable if I was kissing a guy. And you're not a guy. And that's all there is to it."

Josh could only stare at her, lovestruck. Josh could only lean forward to kiss her again, kiss her deeper, kiss her like they both deserved to be kissed: tenderly, and without hesitation.

“Now that I’ve got you in the palm of m’hand, I’m gonna turn you in," Tyler was mumbling against her neck, and while she mumbled she squeezed one of her squishy thighs. "Vandalism is, like, bad.”

“I’m cool with that. As long as you visit sometimes.”

Josh felt her smile. "Sure thing. Anything for you.”

**Author's Note:**

> @21bastards on tumblr. come discuss the lesbians with me


End file.
